


A Misunderstanding of the Textual Variety

by Not_Dans_Secret_Account



Series: Ineffable Husbands One-Shots [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Enjoy!, Fluff, M/M, Stealing Crowley’s glasses, “Crowley is his... best mate”, “their shared flat”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Dans_Secret_Account/pseuds/Not_Dans_Secret_Account
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley both think they each planned their first date
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025797
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	A Misunderstanding of the Textual Variety

A: So, I'll meet you outside the bookshop at 7:30?

C: ritz-bound we go ❤️

Aziraphale couldn’t believe that it was that easy, getting Crowley to agree to go out with him. He had spent these past 6,000-and-something years waiting. But, on this day in the year of our Lord two thousand and nineteen, he looked into Crowley’s eyes and decided that today was the day. Then, there were a few scheduling conflicts, he didn't see the demon for a few days, and it wasn't exactly easy—

But, he had to just… try.

And, so he did. 

24 November 2019  
5:00pm, GMT

A: Crowley? 

C: yes, Angel? 

A: It's dinnertime. 

C: it is 

A: I was wondering if you were doing anything. 

C: i am

A: You are? 

C: yes. i have a reservation at the ritz for 7:45. a table for two for an angel and a demon. 

A: Oh. 

A: Is it Gabriel? 

A: I should have known. You never did seem very mad at him as you were with the others. 

C: Angel~

A: What. 

C: i was asking if you wanted to go to the ritz

A: Oh, I would love to! 

C: i shall pick you up? 

A: Yes. 😊

A: So, I'll meet you outside the bookshop at 7:30?

C: ritz-bound we go ❤️

Crowley couldn't believe that it was that easy, getting Aziraphale to agree to go out with him. He had been pining after him for centuries. Just waiting. But, waiting got boring. And, on this day in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and forty one, he looked into Aziraphale’s eyes and decided that today was the day. Then— well, Crowley didn't have a good excuse. He just kept pansy-ing out. But, now saw no consequences in taking this chance. 

~~~~~~~~~

Crowley arrived outside the bookshop at 7:20. (He was excited) He was sat tapping the steering wheel, checking the time like an obsessive compulsive. He waited for what felt of centuries. He waited long enough to recount all of his favorite memories with Aziraphale. He waited until even Freddie Mercury’s voice couldn't drown out his thoughts. 

He waited a whopping 5 minutes. 

Utterly bored out of his mind, he decided to put the Bentley into park and grab a nice bottle of wine to calm his nerves. There was a liquor store not even a block away, he could walk. And, thus, he set out for his journey. 

Aziraphale exited the bookshop at precisely 7:28. (He was excited) To his surprise, the Bentley was sat mere meters from the front steps of the bookshop. But, it contained no demon. He took the liberty of opening the door and letting himself inside. He was sat listening to Love of My Life, tapping his foot, and checking his surroundings like an obsessive compulsive. 

The angel then noticed a hidden cupboard which he never had before. He opened the small door and glanced inside. Giving a small chuckle to himself, he picked up one of the dozens of pairs of Crowley’s glasses. Aziraphale pulled down the mirror in front of him and was met with himself. If he and Crowley had a baby— not that that was possible, well, not that it wasn’t— he assumed it would look something like what was in front of him. 

Crowley, who was about 11 meters away, had the same thought. But, he couldn’t bring himself to walk to the car and stop the act. The beauty of the angel far outweighed his rational thought, so he stayed far away and just… observed. 

Aziraphale noticed a certain slithering serpent sneaking slightly, silently, solo straight down the streets of Soho. Anthony Janthony Crowley was seen, clear as day, nearing the Bentley with no intent of entering. Aziraphale tried to, inconspicuously, remove the glasses and appear as if he never saw the demon at all. 

By a miracle of God herself, Crowley did not notice the angel noticing him. 

The movement of the angel alarming him into action, Crowley began to move to the vehicle. He opened the door quickly and swung his snake-like body into the driver’s seat. 

“‘Ello,” Crowley puffed, as he regained his composure. 

“Hello, dear,” said Aziraphale, “Smooth.” 

Crowley stared for a moment, hoping that Aziraphale had the same thoughts as he as the angel stared back. 

He had. 

Crowley cleared his throat, “Shall we?” 

Aziraphale smiled the softest of smiles, “Let’s.”

~~~~~~~~~

Crowley, having almost crashed the car eight times in an attempt to continue gazing lovingly at his Angel, entered the Ritz first to make sure their reservation was held. Seeing as it was -19°C, Aziraphale opted to stay in the Bentley for as long as possible. He decided to tuck one pair of the glasses into his inner coat pocket. He wouldn't call it stealing; Crowley was his… best mate. He probably wouldn’t even notice if a single pair went missing. And, it wasn’t as if Aziraphale was planning on wearing them out, that was Crowley’s thing, he just didn’t have the right look. 

The door swung open on the Bentley. 

“All set,” grinned the demon, leaning his lanky frame just past the car’s threshold, not even bothering to get in, “Grab your coat and c’mon!”

Aziraphale took a moment to adjust to this side of Crowley, the likes of which he had never seen before. Never— not in a thousand years, not in 2 thousand, and certainly not in 6– would Aziraphale have ever imagined that Crowley could be this excited for a singular meal. Crowley liked food and all, but the only thing he truly loved in this world was his Angel. 

“Alright,” Aziraphale agreed, as he stepped from the passengers’ side of the Bentley into the bitter cold.

~~~~~~~~~

“Well,” the angel started, “that was a lovely dinner. Even better with you.”

“What was that?” the demon queried.

“Even better with you, I said.”

Crowley smiled at the notion that his angel may feel this way because of him, “I suppose I could say the same.”

Neither of the two could look in the others’ eyes. Both felt far too nervous. If She didn't know any better, which of course She does, She may have compared them to a pair of middle schoolers on their first date. 

As it so happened to be, the aforementioned situation was not far from the truth. And, didn't feel any different either.

“Well, it truly has been lovely,” Aziraphale stated for the both of them, “I’m glad I asked you to this.”

Crowley was taken aback. Had he heard him correctly? Surely not. Anyone could, objectively, tell who asked out whom. It was Crowley. It was definitely Crowley. 

“Excuse me?”

“I’m glad I asked,” Aziraphale reiterated, “Though it has taken me a few months—”

“Try a few centuries,” the demon mumbled, becoming frustrated. 

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, I just—” Crowley breathed in a breath of courage, “I guess I remember it being me who did the asking and—and—”

“And?”

In this moment, Crowley had to let these feelings out; he snapped, “AND I’VE WANTED TO FOR AT LEAST A MILLENNIA”

Silence fell between the two. This was odd. Any silence between them was odd, but this one especially. It was a kind of silence that one could not describe as uncomfortable nor pleasant; the type of silence one experiences directly before a large burst of anxiety; a waiting kind of silence as one waits for a punishment or well regards or a bitterful goodbye. 

“Oh,” said the angel simply. 

And, Crowley seemed pleased with this response, though he was far from it, he did not want to make the angel uncomfortable by forcing something on him that he obviously didn’t want. 

Him. He obviously didn’t want him.

Just as Crowley began to debate whether to scurry away now (maybe the angel wouldn’t notice him), he felt an unfamiliar feeling as something snaked down his arm. From his forearm, to his wrist, finally settling in his hand. The five stubby fingers felt soft in his hand as he gripped tightly back. This angelic hand was all separating him from discorperation. 

Neither dared to speak. 

This silence was the most comfortable of all. The type that, of those involved, none would ever want to leave. There wasn’t a perfect analogy for how this felt. As if Heaven and Hell were at peace on this day, not that they ever would be— Lord knows Gabriel can’t get along with anyone. But, in this instance they were together in harmony as their respective diplomats fell just a little bit more in love. 

“I suppose I could say the same,” the angel concluded, only briefly interrupting the silence which did not conclude until they reached Crowley’s flat. 

And, the adorable angel whom Crowley had seen swipe a pair of his glasses was never caught for that act, though he did wear the glasses a lot around their shared flat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Criticisms are welcome (My pronouns are they/them btw)


End file.
